Hixson. Hixson was patching a hole in the roof of the hen house. “Those are pretty big fish for a boy your size. What’d you use for bait?”
A big grin cracked Caleb’s freckled face. “If I tol’ you that, you might steal my secret.”
“In that case, I bet you used dough balls from your momma’s potato bread. But how did you get her to let you use that for bait?”
Caleb laughed, “Don’t you tell her, now. You do and my hind end’ll be as red as my hair. Ma’s too proud of her bread to let me throw it to the fish.”
Hixson was climbing down from the hen house roof when Caleb spilled the bigger story. “I heard the armies are heading for the North Anna River, south a-ways. Hear there’s going to be a fight. That General Grant is a-chasin’ ole’ Marse Robert like no other Blue Coat general has had the guts for.”
With that, Hixson’s confusion cleared. The debate within him ended. “Then I have to go. Can you tell me how to get to this North Anna River?”
Sarah stepped out onto the porch in time to hear Hixson’s announcement. A cold hand of fear for him gripped her. “Are you sure you should? You’re not all the way healed yet, you know.”
Hixson turned to Sarah. He looked at her, really looked at her, as she stood there. She wasn’t very tall, but she was all woman. Full bosom, tiny waist, a long graceful neck and a beautiful face...and that amazing golden hair she hid. Her troubled green eyes nailed him to the spot where he stood.
The full meaning of what he was about to do hit him. He meant to go away from her, this mysteriously fascinating, strong and fragile beauty, to return to his regiment. Could he do it?
With a wild twisting in his heart, he decided he had to. Hixson walked to the porch, reached up and took her two hands in his. “I have to go. I have to. How can I ever repay you for all you’ve done for me? I owe you my life.”
“You owe me nothing, Hixson. I only did what I was born to do. But you can still repay me–by staying safe. Look out for yourself, you hear?” Sarah checked her tears, unwilling to show Hixson that she was crushed.
“Could I come back and see you, when this is all over? I would like to get to know you better, Miss Sarah. And I would like to find a way to repay you.” Hixson was getting choked up, too.
Sarah nodded, and turned back into the cabin. She packed what provisions she could for him. Caleb had not been to the North Anna River, but he had an idea how to get there. He gave Hixson the best directions he could.
Hixson accepted Sarah’s advice to wear the civilian clothes until he was closer to his own troops. He may encounter Rebel forces before he reached the Union encampment.
In only a few minutes, Hixson was on his way. Back to his unit. Back to the fight. And out of Sarah’s life.
Sarah watched him go, feeling more alone than she had in a long while. Hixson had been a sweet companion to her lately. He was funny and cheerful. He liked to talk, and liked to listen. She especially enjoyed the way he talked to Towzer. Most people wouldn’t spare a thought for a dog, but Hixson responded well to the old girl. Sarah concluded that his kindness to the dog was an indication of what kind of man he was.
Hixson got along well with Caleb and Emma, too. She hadn’t defined her feelings to herself yet. Besides a wish for Hixson to stay, she gave it little thought. She did not think of it as falling in love. Whether she admitted it or not, it was certainly moving in that direction.
Sarah didn’t hold out much hope for his return. She assumed he would get back to war and forget all about her.
May 24th, 1864--North Anna River, Virginia
The Battle of the North Anna was already underway by the time Lieutenant Hixson Morris rejoined his regiment. He had crossed many miles of Rebel territory, traveling away from the main roads.
His comrades were amazed to see him, alive and well. They could not tell that his he had left his heart behind, in an old cabin in Spotsylvania County. He buried himself in his regimental duties.
General Grant’s Overland Campaign proceeded, battle by battle, until the days became one. As time passed, Hixson began to wonder if he had imagined her...a delirium goddess. He laid in his bedroll at night and felt the scars that crossed his belly, and knew she was real.
Hixson never told his fellow soldiers about Sarah. The story didn’t sound plausible even when he told it to himself. Most of them would think him crazy. Some of them would only hear the part about a beautiful woman, living alone. Neither possibility appealed to him. All those miles away, he wanted to keep her safely hidden.
The shine of adventure had long since gone when Hixson was wounded. It was far worse for him now; he was looking at war from both sides in a new way. Sarah had shown him the humanity of the people he was fighting. Hixson saw his fellow soldiers in a different light now. He considered them to be a sorry lot, for the most part. He still held some in high regard, but not many. The snickering retelling of bloody events sickened Hixson now.
He fulfilled his duties and fought bravely as ever. He ate the dismal fare without complaint, and obeyed orders on all occasions. Mostly, Hixson prayed like he had never prayed before that the end of the war would soon be at hand.
April 9th, 1865--Spotsylvania County, Virginia
On the day Robert E. Lee surrendered to U.S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse, an older man rode into the clearing where Sarah’s cabin stood. He was leading a matched pair of dappled grey mares.
Towzer ran to Sarah and stood before her, hackles raised. The man dismounted, looked around and finally looked at Sarah. He had a pronounced limp as he walked toward her.
“I’m looking for a lady who used to live her. She was...I guess...a healer? Real pretty yellow-haired lady?” His voice was very smooth, a poor match to his dusty clothes. Still, he had an air of success about him.
“She hasn’t lived here for some years now. Why were you looking for her?” Sarah did not offer information about her own gift.
“It’s hard to explain, ma’am. She took care of me once, a long time ago, and I came to try to make it up to her. Do you know where I could find her?” The man was reluctant to share his motives further.
Sarah looked at him, feeling like she almost recognized him. She was sure she had not met him before, but there was still something familiar about him. She knew he was hiding something, but even so, her instincts told her he was harmless.
“I’m sorry, mister. She passed away many years ago. Did you know her well?”
The man’s face drained. “Did she die because....did she die about 23 years ago?”
Alarm bells rang in Sarah’s head. “Close. 22 years ago. How did you know?”
“Could I sit down a spell?” He did look like he was about to fall over. The man took a seat on the porch and looked at Sarah thoughtfully.
She brought him cool water and waited for him to explain himself.
“My name is Andrew Kayser. My brother David and me, we were bringing a load of hogs to market one day, a long time ago. We had this one mean old red Duroc hog named Chester. Well, Chester got a hold of me by one foot, and almost twisted my foot clear off...”
Sarah jumped to her feet. She thought about getting her gun, or setting Towzer on him.
“You’re the man...who...”
Andrew Kayser also jumped up, “No, it wasn’t me! Oh, please, you have to believe me! I would never!”
Distrust radiated from Sarah’s face, and then she noticed Andrew Kayser’s very green eyes. Then the truth began to dawn on her. “It was your brother? What did you say his name was? David?” Towzer stood between them, growling softly, upset by the tension.
It had finally come: the day that Andrew Kayser had waited for, and dreaded, for 23 years. “We were almost back home when I woke up. David was riding a horse I didn’t know, but I thought I had seen. That worried me, right away. David was a troublemaker. No, he was downright mean. So I started pestering him to tell me where he got the horse.
“After the hog got me, we went to get help. I remember seeing this lady wi
th real pretty yellow hair. She looked at me like she could see right inside me. At the time, I thought she was an angel, and that I had died. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the back of that wagon, with David on a new horse. I think it must have been her horse.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “I was in a lot of pain. My ankle had been set, but it had been bouncing around in the back of that wagon so it broke again. David went to get some whiskey for me. We were going to go get help again, but he ended up drinking too much. My ankle has never been right since. He never would say what happened or where that horse came from.”
Sarah realized how foolish she had been to blame both men for what had happened all those years ago. Of course, the man her mother had healed would have been sleeping. She just never thought about it. She was ashamed of her own lapse in judgment.
“Well, Andrew Kayser, I guess that would make you my uncle.” She held out her hand, eyes full and heart cringing. “Sarah Westbay. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Andrew Kayser looked at her with huge eyes, started to shake her hand and fell apart instead. He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed like a man unstrung.
They talked long into the night. Andrew learned at last the full extent of what his brother had done that day in 1841. Sarah learned that her father was hung two years later for a similar crime.
“I don’t know why it took me so long to come here. I’ve wanted to ever since I figured out